Battle of the Bros
by Miss Rune
Summary: AU: The Bro Army has fallen, cast into despair and hopelessness. Terrorized by the insanity the Barrels have created, they no longer band together as one. But all is not lost for the leader has returned, calling upon his allies and friends to rise and overthrow the tyranny. But they have failed once before and the Bros haven't forgotton the loss. Is history doomed to repeat itself?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am but a simple Bro like yourselves my friend. I write for the love of writing but if you find grammatical errors please inform me as I tend to not notice such things even though I should. I was unsure how to start this tale at first but after watching Pewdiepie play Journey I found my answer. I will accept constructive criticism but flames just really annoy me. **

** Long Live Pewds and down with all BARRELS! XD**

** DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the Youtubers I will mention in this story. They all own themselves and their identity. Nor do I own any of the games or the scenes in those games that will be mentioned. Cover belongs to keepwalking07 on devianart.**

The sweet call of a horn sailed over the golden dunes, carried by a great southern wind current that swept waves of shimmering sand into its embrace before releasing them in great, swirling gold clouds. It was a beautiful wail of a sound, seemingly soaring effortlessly over and under anything that stood in its path. The musical cry was by far the most majestic yet haunting thing anything in that empty place would ever hear in their lifetime if they had been there to hear its brilliant calling. No, perhaps not even in a hundred lifetimes would someone hear such a glorious sound. The calling was only destined for one pair however, just as destiny calls only but a few into her midst.

The sound soared and flew until it reached the ears of two hooded figures. Both figures silently grinned at the familiar sound, their joyous laughter soaring high into the air, intertwining with the horn's song. Their clothes and faces were hidden by a scarlet cloak upon which a beautiful, intricate symbol was embroidered. A long gold strip of fabric that was attached to the scarlet cloak also held the same symbol and glowed magically with a light only the celestial heavens ordinarily displayed.

"Fuckin' finally." One of the figures, presumably the male chuckled, his cloak fluttering around his ankles. "Thought the Bros wouldn't ever find the damn thing."

The sweet smile from the figure next to him couldn't be seen as the cloak shadowed her face but the warmth she emitted clearly displayed a happiness more beautiful and pure than the dreams a majority of people spend their entire lives pursuing.

"You knew the time would come didn't you Felix? You're good at foreseeing things. Unless it has something to do with those wild adventures we used to go on."

The male figure nodded, grinning silently at his pretty companion. With a wicked gleam in his blue eyes, he turned to the female clad in the same beautiful cloak as he.

"Come on! Race you!"

Without warning the male took off down the dune they had been standing on upon first hearing the horn. He skidded and slipped, his roaring laughter following him as he seemed to be snowboarding on the sand dune. Marzia wasn't far behind at this point and she too was having just as much fun as her companion.

Noticing that Felix was now a far ways ahead of her, a plan formed in Marzia's mind and a cheeky grin spread across her face hidden in the shadows of her cloak. With a majestic leap, the woman soared into the sky like a dove but just when it seemed she would smash into the golden sand below, the scarlet cloak widened, creating a funnel around her body. The symbols embroidered into the fabric of the cloak glowed with an unearthly quality as did the gold fabric strip attached to the scarlet material. She soared through the air majestically, twisting, turning and diving all the while. It didn't take long for her to bypass her partner and she giggled merrily at his shocked expression. She landed daintily and turned to grin at Felix who she noticed had now decided to favour the experience of flying instead of 'sandboarding'.

"Fly on the wings of Pewds!" The cloaked figure sang comically, his voice pitched unnaturally high.

He soared over his companion and chose to land on one of the ruined structures that littered the golden desert. Felix sighed dramatically as he noticed the long distance he and Marzia would have to travel in order to reach the mountain where the border to their destination lay. The place where the call of the horn came from.

_"Shit_." He muttered as his female companion arrived next to him. "This is going to take a while. A long while..."

Hearing his words, Marzia merely nudged his clothed shoulder with her own and smiled at him gently.

"Bengt might meet us along the way. He was wandering around these parts last time we heard of him."

Brightening up instantly, her partner raced ahead, eager to begin their journey and although she was soon quite sick of the sight of the golden sand, her partner's constant optimistic and quirky comments had her giggling along with him as they travelled. The pair had immense fun soaring over the ruins and collecting the fluttering crimson 'carpets' as her partner dubbed them to glide to even higher heights. At times her partner would perform stunts while 'sandboarding', strings of his native language escaping his mouth as he laughed. She couldn't understand much of it but caught the odd couple of phrases here and there. In fact, she too began to speak in her own language originating from a place filled with bright and spontaneous sights and tastes. It reminded her of the first time they met, barely unable to understand the other but still managing to hopelessly fall for one another.

But despite the lightened situation, a heavy unease weighed heavily on their hearts. Marzia knew for certain that the events prior to their banishment had greatly affected her partner and though he lived another life completely separate from his affliction with the Bro Army, he still treasured their support of his wild adventures. There was no telling what had happened to the Bro Army now though. It was highly likely that they had been overpowered and had been forced to disband in order to protect themselves. The thought made her sick with worry knowing that some of the dedicated Bros would have died gruesome and unbearably agonizing deaths to protect the honour of their leader and she knew for certain that things would not be the same when they returned. She wondered about the others as well, those had been beside them that fateful hour. What had happened to their comrades? To their _friends_? She desperately wanted to know if they were still alive and had escaped the wrath of the enemy. The Barrels were inhumane and ruthless however and Marzia knew that if they'd caught anyone within or associated with the Bro Army, their slow execution would have been a public spectacle.

Guilt and shame throbbed within her veins like a vicious toxin despite cold logic stoically stating that there had been nothing either she or Felix could have done in that situation to protect the Bro Army. But even so, Marzia couldn't help it ashamed tears that sprung to her almond eyes. She quickly wiped them away pushing down the dread and grief; this wasn't like her at all and now wasn't the time to mourn. She had to think of the better things, those who _must _ have survived.

They _must've_...

She instantly thought of Maya however and felt her heart glow warmly. Puga-chan definitely would have protected the Bros as best she could in their stead. But as the others who'd been their comrades, there was no telling what had happened to them. Her mind wandered to places should rather stay under lock and key forevermore within her memory. The thought of her comrades and friends being executed simply because they rose up against that tyrant was a sickening thought and her stomach shifted uneasily in response.

She instantly thought of Maya however and felt her heart glow warmly. Puga-chan definitely would have protected the Bros as best she could in their stead. But as the others who'd been their comrades, there was no telling what had happened to them. Her mind wandered to places should rather stay under lock and key forevermore within her memory. The thought of her comrades and friends being executed simply because they rose up against that tyrant was a sickening thought and her stomach shifted uneasily in response.

There had been no way to contact anyone in the state they had been and their powerful curse had bound them to this place for many years. Nay, it was hardly a curse but simply a terrible reminder of their failure. But one could bear that burden as they do a curse couldn't t they? But the pair shared an optimistic look on life and though they both bore the grunt of such guilt despite the fact neither was responsible for what had happened. Life was far too short to waste on grief no matter how terrible and though it pained both, they firmly decided to look past their shame and strive towards what could be healed. They had to find the Bro Army. Otherwise, was certain that far more than their pride would be lost to the Barrels.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you my one reviewer! You really brightened up my day. :D Cookies for the people who can guess the game reference and the person who played or is playing it. Like many here I am but a fledgling writer. Please understand this when or if you comment. I don't mind accepting OCs. If anyone has suggestions or criticism of the portrayal of Piggeh and the like could you PLEASE tell me as this is my first Pewdiepie fan fiction? Please check out the poll of my profile as it affects the course of the story itself….**

**Disclaimers apply.**

The alleyways of Bromania had never been safe places, hardly in the times of peace and certainly not now. Those who ventured into them nowadays hardly ever came back in the same state of mind alone. There were reports of terrible, terrible things occurring in such places and the wise avoided them altogether. Some creatures however were forced to make their living out of the pockets of those who did venture into the night. It was a well-known fact that creatures of night and other such monstrosities lurked and waited patiently for the innocent and sinful alike to come wandering down into their territory. There were frightening stories of ruthless vampires, barrels, iron maidens, untrustworthy statues and other monstrous creatures leaving the bodies of their victims or their remains nailed to the grimy walls as a warning to others should they cross their path.

On this particular night, a newly Embraced Malkavian vampire crept along the maze of alleyways, hunting for her first meal and just happened to chance upon something she'd never forget in her entire final life.

She'd been minding her own business of course, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention that might result in a stern punishment from the Camarilla. Visions danced before her mind's eye, the effect of her madness or enlightenment as it was called by her kind so strong that for a moment thought she saw the shadows themselves peel of the walls and dance in her midst. Lady luck seemed to favour her in that instant for she spotted a hooded figure saunter into her dark alleyway, the light from the main street nearby brushing over their worn, maroon cloak. Excited and nervous, she flattened herself against the cold stone of the dirty wall, anticipating the feeling of the warm, fresh blood trickling down her throat she so desired and was certain to be experiencing any moment now. The stranger came closer and closer, the gentle click of his golden boots echoing nearer than before with every hurried step.

Her fangs lengthened as the beast within her howled for blood. She would gladly oblige it this dark night and scorn the fanatical stories of gentle and controlled vampires while at it. The female grinned bitterly; there was no beating around the bush when it came to her kind. They were creatures of the night, former humans that no longer belonged in this world and could not exist in harmony with their fellow humans. While she was no monster yet, much of what remained of her humanity had been locked away in the depths of her fading memory. She remembered things when the time called for it being Malkavian. The mundane portion of her very being was quickly fading however and though some form of loneliness stirred within her soul at the thought, she was determined to adjust to this new life and its benefits. This person would be her first meal and she certainly hoped she wouldn't make a mess of it as the Camarilla hated cleaning up after its underdogs.

The figure was almost within reach now and the young Malkavian felt her body tense, prepared at any moment to launch at her prey. Th3 animalistic urge to tackle her prey by his throat and drink of that life giving, scarlet blood was so strong in that instant that the fledgling shivered. And it wasn't in fear either.

The time at last came and like a young feline after her first catch alone, the vampire stalked her mysterious prey.

Forgetting all conduct for a split second, she roared and attempted to tackle the stranger, long glistening fangs ready to pierce the skin of his throat and drink from the sweet, scarlet river that pulsed beneath. She could almost taste the blood on her tongue and with her supernatural speed there was no way this person could defend himself from her attack. But just as her claws brushed the fabric of the stranger's worn cloak ready to clamp into his shoulders, she felt a livid snarl filled her ears and a fist slammed into her face with such supernatural power and speed that she was certain her jaw had fractured from the impact alone. There wasn't enough time to even cry out as her numb faced began to pulse with pain before she was reeling backwards into the stone wall from where she'd been hiding, landing with a sickening crunch, ears ringing and head pounding like a drum from the powerful blow.

She slid down the wall, shaking, unable to comprehend what had happened in those three seconds for a few moments. But one thing was certain; that was the blow of a vampire. But as it had actually been quite gentle for one of her kind she knew that her assaulter mustn't have wanted to kill her otherwise she certainly would have been long dead. But where was that vampire who had dealt the blow and how had she not sensed their presence? The stranger who hadn't even twitched since her attempted assault was certainly not the person who had struck her.

A terrible notion latched itself onto her tormented mind. What if she had been trespassing on the turf of another, far more powerful vampire? Even a fledgling as young as she knew that her kind did not take kindly to those wandering on their turf without personal permission.

But despite the desperate thoughts circling the maze of her mind, she dimly noticed the stranger hadn't fled or screamed in terror but was instead simply looking at her, his face hidden in the shadows his cloak provided. Itching to taste his blood she shakily rose to her feet, grimacing as the pain in her head sharpened, the vampire dimly noting that she would have to get her human pet to have a look at it tomorrow. She couldn't sense the presence of anyone but this person in front of her now and if he was foolish enough to remain in her company than whom was she to stop him? The hooded figure didn't seem fazed in the slightest when she slowly tried to inch towards him. It was puzzling to say in the least but as long as her meal didn't flee then she wasn't about to question his reason for staying.

"Be still little fox or you will meet an agonizing Final Death by my hand." Murmured a soft, feminine voice in the shadows.

The fledgling froze, her dark eyes growing wide, knowing the voice of a vampire when she heard one and a Malkavian at that. A cold, tingling chill swept its clammy fingers down her spine and the girl resisted the urge to whimper in terror despite the wild, angry howling of the beast within that wished to challenge the intruder. This vampire could have _killed_ her and so incredibly easily as well. Her wide and terrified eyes rested upon the figure who had stepped out from the dark shadows, the fledgling not even knowing she was there until the very last second.

The opposing woman's face held the timeless beauty many vampires possessed but there was something cold and deadly about the face of this one. Perhaps it was those eyes, haunted by the madness that all Malkavian carried or even the limp, dark hair framing her pretty features, topped with a scarlet cowboy styled hat. She wore very little clothing to the point where she could have been a prostitute but the tight fitting vest and the scandalously small ebony and bloody crimson G-string somehow mysteriously conveyed the impression that this undead woman was a dangerous and wild creature who couldn't be tamed by anything, alive or undead.

"H-Hopsfy!" The fledgling choked out without thinking, her voice emerging several octaves higher than usual.

The powerful creature's beautiful face didn't once break its calm facade though the sharp glint in her dark eyes displayed the face that she was clearly displeased with the use of her true name as she moved with inhuman speed towards the younger Malkavian. In a split millisecond and with a face composed so placidly it could have been crafted of precious porcelain, Hopsfy nudged a silver pistol against the head of the younger creature so fast that one had to wonder if she had moved in that instant at all.

"Learn your place fledgling when speaking to your superiors." The older she-vampire hissed venomously.

The horrified female swallowed audibly and nodded shakily, eyes wide and clouded with terror, limbs weak and numb. She knew better to challenge this vampire or question her reason for keeping this stranger alive. The young fledgling may be cocky and reckless at times but even she wasn't foolish or courageous enough to confront this woman in serious battle. She watched dumbly as Hopsfy removed the pistol from her head, placed it back within her tight vest and turned away without a second thought towards the stranger. The unfamiliar emotion of defeat and utter humiliation in her chest, wincing at the bitter taste it left in her mouth. Her trembling legs gave way and she dropped to the dirt floor of the alley, watching dumbly as Hopsfy led the stranger away, taking great care to remain close enough to intercept any possible attack from any others that might have hidden away in the shadows. This was by far the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to her since her Embrace and later, many months later, when the world would experience a great upheaval and a flooding sea of turmoil unlike anything ever seen before, she would reflect on this event and feel the icy terror from that night once again poison her body at the thought of what that vampire could have done to her.

Amidst the dirt and grime of the stone walls lining the small alleyway, a clean, worn wooden sign swung from a bar imbedded into the stone. It was clearly the only thing that had been cleaned in a very _long _time and the faded but polished gold lettering inscribed on it shone with resilience as if determined to never succumb to filth surrounding it. It was well known of course that _The Dark Descent _in the district of Amnesia was a popular tavern for many despite its unattractive surroundings and those from any district came to gather from the numerous info gathers that swarmed there to spread their tales, searching for small the seeds of truth were spread in this place, often accompanied by many a deceitful lie.

The well-worn wooden doors were never still, even in the darkest hour of the night, with people and creatures of all sorts bustling in and out of them. A murky, copper light glowed from the doorway and those passing the alleyway could hear the murmur of chatter that fluttered out of its depths. Those of any heritage could come to this place and enjoy the company of the multitude that flooded into this small joint of town. There were many scuffles and the occasional serious attack but _The Dark Descent_, despite its shady surroundings, did not have the high crime rate that so many other districts like it had and therefore was considered far safer than the other locations info givers would travel to.

The interior of _The Dark Descent _was simple but not overly so, its wooden floors stained and scratched but clear of dust, the old bar polished and the dark wooden stools littering the premises scattered untidily around the large room. Even at such a late hour as well, the room was still partially filled with customers and a soft amber light shone from the candles littering the many, small, round tables scattered around the interior of the room. Despite being partially filled, _The Dark Descent_ was strangely quiet even for this late hour and even the usually constant presence of a vampire or two was missing from the premises.

A sudden crash suddenly echoed throughout the once silent building, startling a couple of patrons right off their chairs. The source of the crash happened to be the doors of the place itself, slammed open with such force that the walls had shaken slightly. But given the nature of the woman who had opened them it really wasn't that much of a surprise.

The surprised customers watched as from within the inky black depths of the night, two figures appeared, one of which was _very _well known in these parts. The small crowd within _The Dark Descent _stared at the mesmerizing woman in awe but her hooded companion seemed less than impressed with her hardly stealthy entrance, muttering distastefully. He cursed colourfully in a thick French accent, the sound muffled by the worn fabric of his hooded cloak, earning an annoyed look from his female companion who bared her sharp fangs threateningly at those gawking.

The pair did not waste time standing in the doorway and allow the stunned company to gawk at them but instead quickly took a seat at the table nearest to them which was solely occupied by a grinning man, his face ruggedly handsome, garments torn and showing the gruesome scars marring the toned flesh beneath and tousled hair a brilliant shade of pink. His mischievous, glinting eyes fixed themselves intently on the female at first before she bared her fangs at him threateningly and he winked at her, blowing her a kiss before turning to the hooded figure who had snorted disapprovingly at his actions.

"You jealous, Stephano?" The pink haired man asked tauntingly, his gaze turning sultry as he looked at the once hooded figure who was now revealed to be the famous Frenchman. "I get it everywhere because, I mean, how many people are blessed with an ass like this and the looks to go with it after all?"

The golden statue rolled his eyes in mild disgust and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"You're more of a damn slut than the fuckin' teleporting naked guys and they don't even wear clothes! _Jesus Christ_, I don't think I'd be surprised if I found you banging with a table nowadays." The golden statue grunted angrily as the vampire by his side shifted slightly in her chair uneasily, glancing at the doorway every so often.

"So many snakes might follow our path." The vampire muttered softly, her deep eyes dancing with madness.

Stephano huffed irritably and swore colourfully in his native language before turning to the undead woman.

"Stop being an idiot Hopsfy. If someone wants to kill us they're not going to come through the goddamn front door acting out of the ordinary."

The dark irises of the Malkavian glittered in annoyance for a split second and it seemed she would lose control, using her immense power to painfully humiliate the statue who was still staring at her evenly, his polished golden orbs not wavering. But then that moment passed and the dark glitter in her eyes vanished so quickly one had to wonder whether it had been there in that instance at all. Beautiful, dark eyes still partially narrowed at the male pair in front of her, one of whom sent a flirtatious grin her way lost a portion of the suppressed anger in their tormented depths after a while to be replaced with cool respect.

"My aid is only yours because Blank Face-" The she-vampire began.

Stephano cut her off with a hastened hand gesture and glared back at the pink haired man beside him, the curious gaze irking the Frenchman even more than it would normally because of the dire situation. They didn't have time for this rubbish!

"Because Blank Face requested it. I heard it more than once on the way here." The disgruntled Frenchman grunted out.

His harshly spoken words only fanned the flames of Hopsfy's irritation and she bared her fangs at him threateningly. Stephano grunted unhappily and turned to the face Piggeh who merely smirked smugly at him and turned to gaze at the other customers littering the tavern that caught his ever seeking eye. The Frenchman could feel the thin thread that held his temper in place fray. He hated being in the company of idiots.

"_You. Are. An idiot, Pewdie…"_

"_Stephano!" _

The sudden appearance of the familiar conversation echoed within the statue's head like a timeless incantation and like the stubborn Frenchman he was, Stephano refused to dwell on the painful pang that stung in his chest at the thought of his best friend. He hadn't seen or heard of the man since that fateful hour but unlike the still grieving Bro Army, refused to believe his friend had died. The fool was too stubborn to just _die_ and by the hand of a Barrel at that. Or at least, that was what he hoped. It became more and more difficult as the weeks passed to believe that even the famous Pewdiepie could pull off this stunt alive and soon, the flame of hope in his heart dwindled down to a frail ember that barely glowed.

Piggeh was hardly a discreet person in nature but he was incredibly observant when he wanted to be and he instantly noticed the pain flitter across the Frenchman's handsome face for a moment before it disappeared beneath his ordinary, angry mask.

Piggeh may be a flirtatious bastard but he knew when Stephano was hurting and not to push it too far because after all, all the Bros including himself were suffering immensely because of the Barrels and the dastardly scheme that had sent Bromania to its knees. It had been the Barrels' fault the Bro Army had crumbled and its fragile, quickly dispersing remnants were still being violently persecuted till today but the loss of their leader was the true blow that had made them crumble, the grief too great a burden for many to bear. Their leader had been the pillar of strength that the Bro Army relied unconsciously and his supposed death dealt a blow so stinging that a majority of the Bro Army refused to admit the extent of damage it dealt to their forces.

The pink haired man glanced at the female vampire seriously for a moment, wondering why 'Blank Face' would even ask this of her in such dangerous times. It was all so pointless now to keep fighting with the Bro Army at less than half of its ordinary might. With Pewdie gone, the core of what the Bro Army really stood for had vanished and though there were still many cases of brave Bros attempting to overthrow the cruelty of the Barrels they nearly all failed miserably. Nothing but agony and despair was gained from such expeditions and Pewdiepie's old allies had long since fled for their very lives, unable to assist those brave or foolish enough to struggle against the immense power and control the Barrels held over Bromania and its citizens.

Piggeh knew why Stephano was so reluctant to trust this particular vampire as well, other than the fact that she obviously an ally of the man Stephano was still partially suspicious of. Hopsfy wasn't open with the fact that she had once been part of the Camarilla who were close allies of the Barrels but as Stephano was one of the few that knew, he was deeply loath to trust her and as she was also a close friend of the man she dubbed 'Blank Face', this automatically created some light distrust of Pewdiepie's alley.

The golden statue had already only grudgingly respected the masked man but this recent incident firmly shook his trust of Cry and the company he chose to keep. They hadn't seen head or tail of their masked alley since that fateful hour but Cry constantly reminded them of his presence, helpful allies always turning up to assist any Bros in danger before disappearing into the night once their task was completed. They came in many forms and sizes but every one held a debt they said must be repaid and this was how the masked man had said they were to repay it. Cry obviously didn't want to put himself out in the open as an easy target and his location had never been confirmed even by the most skilled of bounty hunters. If the masked alley wanted to remain in the shadows, no one would be able to find him unless he allowed himself to be found and it was one of the things about him that irked Stephano the most. And it wasn't only the masked alley that had hidden himself away in the wilderness that surrounded Bromania's borders.

Queen Mangaminx of Letsplay had also cut off any affliction with the Bro Army, her own country bordering Bromania and unable to battle their tyrant at their current manpower. Letsplay may be a country roughly the same size as Bromania but they lacked enough valuable resources to engage in serious battle with the powerhouse. And as Letsplay itself was only a portion of Bromania that had only recently succeeded in rebelling against the tyranny of the Barrels led by their fierce and fiery queen, they were nursing the deep wounds from their many great losses. Her own allies had retreated back into their own hideaways, certainly trying to recover from the battle which had nearly cost all of Minx's valiant rebels their very lives.

Stephano sighed.

They were all so..._broken_.

Everyone was so tired of fighting and the struggles that accompanied it.

Would it ever end?

Could they ever even attempt to keep battling the Barrels without Pewds and his valiant allies anymore?

Those who had been in this war the longest simply longed for the days when they would travel freely across the wild countryside, seeking adventure after adventure and following the steps of those they heard of. They longed for the time when the Bro Army and other such people like them had not needed to fight and the tattooed brofist on their bodies was not a source of shame and disgust. The times when they would eagerly await for their heroes and heroines to return with tales dancing on their tongues, eager to jump from ear to ear were long gone however.

It seemed sheer willpower was not be enough this time to overcome the supreme might of their opponent.

The Frenchman was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice another vaguely familiar figure had seated himself beside him. Judging by the surprised gaze of both Piggeh and Hopsfy however, this had to be something mildly important. Tearing his gaze away from the dull brown of the table in front of him, Stephano's golden eyes met the dark eyes of a familiar man.

"Markiplier? Thought that teleporting naked guy finished you off last week." The statue grunted.

The dark haired man grinned, brown eyes glinting with a soft spark, twirling a fluorescent pink moustache in one hand.


End file.
